Polar Attractions
by xoBlackIcex
Summary: Alfred's day was already pretty bad and to make matters worse he somehow managed to piss of the schools English punk kid while waiting for his dad to pick him up. Why couldn't his dad just be on time for once? (UKUS AU) (Punk!Arthur & Dorky!Alfred) (Just my little fantasy I dreamt up at an airport) Rated T but may go up if I continue it.


**AN:** Wrote this while waiting for my plane in the terminal because I saw this really cute hipster/punk guy sitting alone and I was daydreaming of things I could do to get his attention. What Alfred does in this story is the result of my fantasies.

**CLAIM:** I do not own Hetalia! That belongs to Papa Hima.

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Alfred grimaced when he lifted his wrist up to check the time on his watch. His dad was late. He was _ALWAYS_ late.

"You've got to be kidding me..." He slumped back in the bench and stared at the sky. The weatherman said it wasn't supposed to rain until tonight yet dark clouds were already starting to darken out the sky. If it rained then he was definitely going to kill his dad. Why couldn't the man be on time to pick him up for once in his life? And of all days to be really late it had to be today.

Today was a rather important day for Alfred. It was the day he was finally getting his braces off. Two years of having to watch what he ate and clean carefully in between the stupid wire he was finally getting them off.

He missed smiling as big as he used to in middle school. His teeth at the time weren't horrible, except for the large gap he had in the middle of his front row teeth. It used to be adorable as a kid but turned ugly when he got older and other kids his age had gotten braces. Alfred ended up getting them on when he was in 8th grade as much as he protested against having them. He was in 10th grade now at his high school so that meant he had them on for almost 3 years. He'd been counting down the days to get them off since the first day they were glued on.

Hopefully with his braces off he'd look older and get more attention from the cute upper class girls. He blushed at the thought of girls actually wanting to speak to him and go on dates.

He covered his face as he continued his little fantasies. God why was he such a loser when it came to girls? As a kid his parents told him he was a smooth talker to other girls on the playground, so why was he slacking now when older? Maybe it was because of his height? Most girls in the higher grades were much taller than he was. Most girls dreamed of standing on their tippy toes to kiss their boyfriends, not the other way around. It came to Alfred that getting taller was next on his list right after getting his braces off.

There was a jingle in the American's jean pocket that drew him from his daydreaming. When he pulled out his cell phone he saw that it was a message from his dad. His frown deepened as he read the message to himself in his head and in his father's Austrian accent.

**Dad:**_ Running late at the theater. Won't be there until another 30 or so minutes. Stay where you are and no talking to strange men. Sorry son._

"Dangnabbit!" Alfred tossed the cellular device over his shoulder in a fit of anger. He didn't care what happened to it after it left his fingertips. He was too pissed off that his dad was flaking on him again. They were going to miss his orthodontist appointment and have to re-schedule it. It occurred to Alfred that there were yearbook photos tomorrow. There was no way he was going to have them off by then. Truly the world was against him at the moment.

"Oi!"

Alfred sat straight up on his spot on the bench. Was someone speaking to him? He heard heavy footsteps crunch on the dry leafs that were scattered around the bench behind him. The crunching stopped to Alfred's left side at the other end of the bench. He uncertainly looked up and met eyes with a pair of dark green that were outlined with black eyeliner. Alfred gulped, he'd seen what kind of men on TV wore dark eyeliner and they usually weren't the good guys.

The man brought his hand up and flashed Alfred's cell phone with an exasperated look on his face. "This belong to you, mate?" He asked harshly but Alfred was too shocked by the man's appearance to actually come up with an answer to respond back with.

Alfred didn't know what he found more intimidating about the man before him. It was either his knee high black combat boots or his torn black leather jacket. Oh god was he a biker? His dad told him to never to speak to men like them, but he also told him to never talk to girl scoots either. He never really understood why for that one but listened anyways.

On the guys shirt was a faded image of the Union Jack in black and white and was torn at the bottom like it was worn too many times and ready to be tossed out. His black skinny jeans also had holes in them, but only at the knees. His hair was a dark shade of blonde that looked as though it never tasted a comb through its strands before. It was a new definition of the meaning to have bed head.

If his hair were just a tad longer, then they would have covered those enormous eyebrows. Alfred stared intensely as the man raised one of them up at him. Seeing them move on their own made Alfred giggle for some reason.

The man heard Alfred giggle and his frown deepened. If there was one thing he hated it was being laughed at. "Oi! You gunna apologize aren't ya? Throwing a phone at me while tryin' to light a fag was damn rude."

Actually fully paying attention to the dark punks words, Alfred was able to pick up on his accent. What was it? He would say Australian, but this guy was really pale and Australians were said to be tan, or at least they were in movies.

Wait... Did he say 'light a fag'?

Alfred quickly dropped the small grin on his face until his lips became a straight thin line. His eyes darted to his phone that the foreigner was holding in his raised hand. Guilt suddenly washed over him when he realized what he'd done.

"I-I'm s-sorry about that sir." He couldn't keep his nerves from messing up his speech as he spoke.

The man let out a defeated sigh and tossed the phone in Alfred's direction who caught it easily. Years of baseball and being on the varsity team paid off.

Alfred didn't know whether to thank the man or apologize a second time to him. So he just opted to staring at the phone in his clasped hands as he patiently waited for the guy to peacefully leave him be.

"You don't have to call me 'sir' ya know. I ain't no fuckin' geezer." The guy commented dryly and Alfred looked up, slightly amazed the guy was still standing there and he wasn't beating him up either.

The American shuffled his feet around on the sidewalk, unsure how to respond because it looked like the guy wasn't going to leave him alone just yet. "Oh, uh, sorry dude." As soon as the words came out Alfred regretted them. Did he seriously just call a guy who looked liked he kill kittens in his basement _'dude'_?

The foreign man just raised his eyebrows and grinned as though slightly amused at Alfred's choice of words. He slid his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and fiddled with his steel lighter in one of them. He was just about to light himself a fag until something hard smacked his hands and knocked his lighter and fag bud to the ground. Furious, he picked up the device and went marching over to the only person in range that was sitting on a bench in front of his smoking spot. Truly he had full intention of beating the shit out the little twit who was sitting on the wooden bench but when the little blonde looked up at him with those big sapphire eyes, he almost had forgotten why he walked over there in the first place. It was the kids phone in his hand that reminded him why he was standing there and why he was upset.

Alfred fidgeted uncomfortably under the stranger's stern gaze. Why was he just staring at him? Yeah, he hit him with his phone and called him 'sir' and then awkwardly called him 'dude', so if he was going to beat him up over it then why hadn't he done it yet? The man's green eyes swiftly darted to the bench and Alfred had an 'ah-hah' moment following soon after.

The teen coughed awkwardly in his fist and scooted over a little bit to make more room on the bench. He patted the spot with his hand then brought it back into his lap and folded it neatly with the other one. "You can sit if you like..." Just please don't kill me.

At first there was nothing but a hanging awkward silence but to Alfred's unfortunate luck, he heard the man scuff and the sound of his boots on dry leafs get closer. He held himself back from jumping away when the biker looking guy plopped himself down right next to him. Thankfully there was about a foot of space put in between them and the American wondered if he could possibly increase that gap without the other noticing and murdering him.

"So why'd ya do it?"

Alfred looked up at the man who was looking off across the schools courtyard. His hands were still in his coats pockets and his legs were stretched out with one crossed over the other.

"Do what?" Alfred hesitantly asked, not wanting to answer and get the question wrong if he did and pay a heavy price to the face.

The guy looked over and nodded his head in the direction of Alfred's lap where his phone was securely locked in his grasp. The American noticed this but paused to think of an answer without him sounding more like a loser. Well he was already pretty sure the foreign punk guy already thought he were one. No surprise though, most people did. Even being on the varsity baseball team didn't bring up his popularity.

_Quick, come up with something that would make you sound totally badass. _

"Got mad, so, you know." Alfred expressed like it was no big deal and shrugged his shoulders.

"No, actually I don't." The man with electric eyes replied perplexed, looking down at the blonde from the corner of his eye.

Alfred put on his best smirk while acting like he was punching something in front of him and the guy just watched him swing at the air. "When I get mad I just get the urge to throw or hit something."

"Oh really?" The punker replied sarcastically and grinned at the smaller blonde that was trying to put on a good show. "Never would have taken you for the type?"

Alfred beamed at that and leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Most people don't until it's too late. I'm sure a guy like you will know what I mean." Alfred lifted his elbow to nudge the guy but brought it back down when he thought about touching him without his permission. He didn't want to risk loosing an arm.

"What a load of rubbish." The punker sputtered and rolled his eyes. He doubted the little blonde has ever hit a person in his entire life. His little fist would probably break after one solid smack to the jaw.

Alfred's grin dropped as well did his posture. "What? You don't-"

"Believe a single word you utterin' from your trap?" He laughed icily and shook his head. "Not even for a second, mate."

Alfred tightened his arms around himself and blushed; looking anywhere else but to his left where the dark dressed stranger was sitting. All those years of acting classes for nothing!

"But hey, don't be ashamed you ain't like I am." Alfred turned and watched the guy pull a cigarette from his leather pocket and put it in between his pale pink lips, also noticing the snake bite piercings he had under them.

"I ain't no prissy chap but I ain't no wanker either." He mumbled with the stick between his lips as he attempted to switch on his lighter to secure a solid flame.

Alfred watched from his seat intriguingly until the other looked up at him and met eyes with him.

"Ya don't mind if I blow a fag, do ya?"

Alfred swallowed and darted his eyes to his feet at the simple question. So that's what he meant by _'fag'_. It was slang for cigarette from whatever country he was from. Australians sure did have some funny names for things.

Instead of speaking, Alfred just hurriedly shook his head, scared that if he protested then the guy would light him on fire with the lighter still in his hand. He wasn't a big fan of smoking or being around anyone else who did it. Growing up his dad always told him to stay away from people who blew smoke from their mouths. He used to think they were dragons undercover as humans, so at a young age Alfred would confront them and state he would sly them and become the hero. His dad would scold him for that after people would grab him by the wrist and confront his father about the subject. He just blamed it on his son's creative imagination.

The man coated in black stared at Alfred as the younger shook his head _'no'_ as in he didn't mind, but the look in his eyes told him otherwise. He supposed he could wait another hour or so when not around kids.

Alfred watched the other man sigh and drop his head in defeat as he pulled the bud from his lips and tossed it to the ground then slid his lighter back into his pocket. Alfred stared at the cigarette on the earth's motherly floor but held his tongue from saying anything. He'd throw it away when the creepy guy left.

"So" the man leaned back on the benches back rest and blew upwards at the few strands of hair that reached his eyelashes. "You got a name kid?" He tilted his head lazily in the Americans direction and watched him stare at him wide eyes like he asked something too intimate.

Oh god, he wants to know the name of his next victim before he murdering them... Alfred thought about telling him a fake name, but what good would that do? He already knew what school he went to and what he looked like up close. Alfred's blue eyes got wide. Dear god he was doomed.

"Y-You tell me yours first." Yeah, good idea Alfred. If he were to escape then he'd have a name to turn into the police. Or maybe he could carve it into the wood on the bench with his nails if he were taken right there.

The man did a sideways grin at the boy, finding his bashfulness enduring. "The names Arthur. If you care for a last name, then it's Kirkland."

Huh... Well that wasn't what Alfred had expected at all. He was more on the lines of, bone crusher, doom-orator, or maybe even Voldemort. Now that he thought about it, they both had similar accents...

"Arthur Kirkland... That's very-"

"British?" He answered for him and Alfred just paused.

"I was going to say nice actually."

The man snorted and flipped his hair as though it were actually long enough to be flipped. "I suppose we see it differently then." He looked back at him and scanned his eyes up and down the boy entirely. Yup, very different indeed.

Alfred watched the others eyes scan his form up and down and he scooted back an inch while blushing. Why was he looking at him like that with those toxic green eyes of his? More importantly, why was he blushing from it? This dark stranger scared him, not attracted him! Though his eyes were quite alluring.

"Now I believe it's your turn."

If the man was honest with him then Alfred agreed that'd be best to be honest back. He swallowed and prayed that his voice wouldn't squeak or crack from under the others intimidating stare.

"It's Alfred."

Arthur made a swirling motion with his hand as a cue to continue.

"Oh! Uh, Alfred F. Jones. Sounds a lot fancier than it really is." Alfred grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

"Jones..." Arthur muttered under his breath while leaning back again against the bench. He looked down and gazed at his black scuffed boots, lost in thought about the name. He'd sworn he heard that before somewhere.

When Alfred heard the British other say his name lowly in that thick accent and as though in train of thought, he couldn't help but to get a little flustered by it. Something in his stomach felt like it was cut and was now loose flying around in his stomach. What was that feeling? He'd never felt it before so what was happening to him now because of this man that made his stomach flutter? He watched the guys lips when they went still and trailed his gaze downwards until he reached those shiny snake bite piercing. Never had Alfred liked or had been attracted to piercings but something about them so close to the lips were very sensual.

Arthur looked back up when he felt the others stare on the side of his head for too long. He intriguingly watched the younger blondes cheeks turn pink in embarrassment and quickly snap his head in another direction. He grinned at how easy it was to fluster the kid. That made him wonder just how old he was.

"How old are ya, Jones?" He questioned and watched the boys ears then flash pink at the use of his last name solely.

"15... I'm still in the 10th grade."

Ah, the kid was only a youngling. A whole 3 years younger than he himself. Still innocent and so inexperienced with just about everything. No wonder just about anything made him blush like a little schoolgirl.

"What are you? You go to school here too, right?" he sounded tense while asking the question as though nervous of what type of answer he was going to get. That made Arthur laugh on the inside.

"Yeah, unfortunately I attend this complete shit of a school. Soon enough I'll be out though."

So Arthur was a senior. Alfred took in that information as he studied him some more. He definitely looked old, but he would have guessed he were in college instead of high school. Maybe he failed a few grades?

"Oh..."

Alfred didn't know what else to say so he just said _'oh'_ and let the conversation die right there. In truth he just wanted to leave and not speak to British guy any more. He made him feel funny and he wasn't for sure what it meant. He wondered how long he'd been talking to him since his dad had told him he'd be there to pick him up. Surely they had been talking for well over 30 minutes, so his dad would probably arrive any second now.

He looked up and noticed Arthur was staring-no, glaring at him. He had his arms folded over his chest that had the Union Jack printed across it. Alfred gulped nervously and leaned away, putting his hand on the other side of him to move over more but stopped when his hand hit the edge. He was out of room to escape...

The young teen then started jumbling some words together as he tried to speak. He didn't know what he was saying or what he wanted to say, but his nervous mouth just kept running and he couldn't get himself under control to stop it.

Arthur watched the American scoot away and the look of panic wash over his features when he neared the edge. That only upset him more.

"You don't want to be near me, do ya?" It wasn't a question, he was just painfully stating the obvious that Alfred couldn't get the courage to confess.

"I d-don't know w-what you mean?" His shaking voice didn't help it sound convincing like he wanted it to.

The Brit rolled his eyes and grunted at that. "Do I scare ya that much, jones?" Usually he was more than pleased when people backed nervously away from him. He liked that, it meant people would leave him alone and he liked the look of fear in others eyes and knowing he caused it. But the look of it in Alfred's brilliant sapphire didn't match at all. It didn't make him feel good either knowing he caused it. He didn't know what it made him feel, but it was definitely uncomfortable.

Alfred looked into the others eyes and saw what he assumed was dejection, as though Arthur was offended that he was afraid of him.

Did the man not see how he dressed before he left his house in the mornings? Did he not think the all black appearance and piercings and eyeliner wouldn't make people nervous to be around him? Did he?

Was...was Alfred just stereotyping him?

The American was quiet and started to scoot closer to the Brit slowly until their thighs were almost touching. He felt his heart increasingly beat like he never felt it before when around a person but he assumed it was only fear.

"S-Sorry, it's just I've never spoken to a guy like you. I don't know you, so I shouldn't be judging you. You may be dressed in black and look scary but that doesn't mean you aren't a bad person. I'm sure your great underneath all that scary punky clothes." Alfred gave him the kindest smile that he could muster, even daring to show some teeth with his braces.

Arthur didn't say anything when the boy scooted up next to him. He usually pushed people away but for some reason he was curious of Alfred's intentions, and was proven right when he started speaking. It sounded corny as hell, but he couldn tell that's just the type of guy Alfred was. He was still young and fresh in high school and it's different social groups. If he were able to attempt to understand some test were in his school then he was going to do just fine when out.

Arthur was quiet and stared at his shoes, not knowing exactly how to respond to something like that besides laughing or being corny back. He didn't want to hurt the little guy, but he had to be honest with him.

The Brit sighed and leaned forwards, drawing up his legs from their out stretched position and positioned them evenly next to each other. He leaned until its elbows rested themselves on his knees then stared at the space in between his parted feet.

"Ya got a nice way of lookin' at things, Jones, but sometimes what you see is really what you get." He heard the blonde shuffle next to him but he didn't bother looking up. "You say I'm good but I ain't gunna lie and tell you I've never beaten a few blokes up. Been to the hospital and sent some there myself too. I've got myself a serious smoking addiction and don't plan on quitting either. Can't even remember the last time I've been to church or said grace. I listen to music that sounds like sin and make some of it too." He couldn't resist and finally looked up at Alfred, desperately wanting to see the sunny little boy's reaction at his confessions or obvious truths. "Do ya still think I'm a good man on the inside like you're taught in cheesy movies, Jones? I can see in your eyes if you're lying so don't respond if you're gunna answer untruthfully."

Alfred sat there utterly speechless. He didn't know whether he had expected that all along or to be completed baffled and slightly distraught by it. Arthur was Arthur and he wasn't afraid to show it off on his shoulders and not care what others thought of him. He was envious that he was able to do that. Alfred thought he was pretty open about who he was outside of home but Arthur had him re-thinking that. He had him re-thinking a lot of things... He placed a hand on his cheek and felt how warm it was still because of Arthur.

The Brit waited but got no response. He wasn't expecting one from him quite honestly. It was best if he probably scared the little guy. Teach him to stay away from people like himself, not that he cared who Alfred associated with or anything.

After another moment of complete silence, Arthur stood from the bench and slid his hands back into his leather pockets. It was getting late and he really needed to go somewhere and smoke. God he really needed one now more than ever for some reason. He glanced over his shoulder at the blonde who sat in the same position, quietly staring at his hands in his lap. It was getting late out and soon would be dark. There weren't many people around and Arthur knew just what type of people liked to wonder near the schools in the late hours of the night.

He was about to speak up until a car rounded the car speedily. A silver Mercedes stopped right in front of where Alfred was sitting and the boy continued to sit there blankly as if nothing happened. Must be the boys parents. He started walking away, not wanting the kids parents to see what type of guy their son speaks to when alone. They've probably warned him of people like him. He grinned at that because his mum used to tell him the same once upon a time.

"Alfred, why haven't you been answering your phone? I've called several times!" Alfred's adoptive Austrian father yelled out the window. Alfred looked at the phone in his lap and tapped the screen and watched as nothing happened. Either it turned off when he threw it or he broke it. His dad would kill him if it were broken.

"Alfred!"

"I-ugh! I'm coming, dad!" He got up from the bench and started stomping over to his car but slowed down when he caught site of Arthur disappearing down the sidewalk into the darkness that he was colored in. He stopped all together to watch the Brit walk away as he tuned out the yells from his father that were telling him to get in the car.

As if feeling the others stare on his back, Arthur turned halfway and looked back at Alfred. He grinned at him briefly then turned back around and continued his walk down the sidewalk alone. There was no point about feeling sad about the parting because him and American went to the same school and he'd probably seen him real soon.

"Alfred Frederick Jones! You get in this car this instant or else we will miss your orthodontist appointment!"

Alfred turned to his father surprised. "They can still take them off today? Seriously?"

"I made a call and they said they'd stay a little later for you."

Alfred beamed at that. Now he was going to have them off for yearbook pictures and the next time he sees Arthur! That is, of course, if Arthur wanted to see him again. Well at least he knew where he could find the guy after school. He thought he'd be more scared of Arthur after what he told him and Alfred definitely was, but he couldn't help but to be drawn to him. He was entirely new to him and Alfred enjoyed the rush of nerves he felt when under the Brits shrill gaze.

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**AN:** Yes, I was tempted to "_loose grip of my phone and have it land 12 feet away and into the cute guys face_".  
But did it happen? For his sake and my own (_not getting thrown out by security_) I did not commence forth with any of my plans. One day…


End file.
